


Fallen

by Kitsune_Heart



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Blanket Permission, Evolution, F/M, Fallen Angels, Innuendo, Podfic Welcome, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsune_Heart/pseuds/Kitsune_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans have long debated their origins, and even the fairies do not have all the answers. When Artemis lectures Holly on a few of the major theories, he stumbles upon one that is perhaps a bit more...apt than most people realize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen

"Pterodactlys," Artemis said, giving Holly a frankly shocked look. "Really? Fairies think they descended from pterodactyls?"

"Well," Holly said, standing on the tips of her toes to reach the top of the young man's desk and trace the skeletal outline of an elf that Artemis had been consulting. "Sprites have wings, obviously. And there's the vestigial wing-bones of elves. Those obviously indicate a relationship to a flying species. And our bones are generally lighter than a human's, so that is another argument for flight."

"And it never crossed your scientists' minds that fairies are more likely to have descended from a more mammalian species, such as a bat or even a primate, as humans did? After all, a logical next step from swinging in trees is flying through them." Artemis pulled a new pair of printouts from beneath the elf model, spreading them all in a triangular shape on his desk. "Begin with something that can fly. The species, for various reasons, branches off. Let's say those that can't fly will become sort of...gliders, and their skin tone adapts, as well. Brown, to blend with the ground and trunks of trees they would be more likely to land on. Those that fly well turn green to match the treetops. Those that completely lose the ability to fly—the pixies, if you haven't caught on—go for a paler skin tone, to match in with grasses and plains, and completely lose their wings. Elves are simply..." He waved one hand in the air, as if he would knock into the words he wanted.

"Less evolved than pixies?" Holly supplied sarcastically.

"I said no such thing."

"It was implied."

"Holly, you simply must stop putting words into my mouth. I was _going_ to say that they are irreversibly removed from flight. Have you never wondered why you love flying so much? Perhaps it is an ancient desire, unsurfaced by the skillful use of technology."

She considered this, looking between the medical drawings. It was odd to see oneself reduced to such basic elements, and then further dissected according to your instincts. Even more odd when the arguments made perfect sense. "Okay. What about dwarves? And goblins? Goblins aren't even technically mammals, anymore. No...mammaries." She coughed,

"Further and further back, evolutionarily speaking. Eventually, there would be one common ancestor. Some initial magical creature. After all, if we are to follow the theory of evolution, we all come from one original creature." Artemis laughed once, rolling his eyes. Then he glanced at Holly, pensive.

He pulled out a final diagram from the very bottom of the pile, bringing the elf model closer and laying them beside each other. Done to fit the same size paper, the human looked almost identical to the elf. Some differences in the shoulders and the ears, but not much else. The uneducated observer would not be able to see the difference.

Holly frowned, looking up at Artemis's intent face. " _If_ we follow evolution? How else would you explain it?" Hopefully some way that did not involve shared DNA. It was vaguely insulting to be considered so close to the creatures that drove her people into hiding.

Artemis leaned back from the desk, settling into a more natural position in his chair. He raised his hands, fingers steepled before his lips, and took a full minute to think, humming a no-doubt self-made tune. Just when Holly was about to roll her eyes and ask him to stop being so _Fowl_ and explain himself, he began, slowly.

"A more...spiritual approach. Religious, I suppose." He snorted lightly, obviously as skeptical of religion as he was of the theory of evolution. "When Lucifer rebelled against God, he did not rebel alone, and many of the angels backed him in his fight against the Lord's...tyranny. And, of course, many angels backed God, their Creator, and fought the dark army. And...there were yet other angels. Those without a side. Those who simply watched and waited to see which would be the victor.

"So, when God threw Lucifer down, he ordered the gates of Heaven closed. Those angels that fell, fell far, and became the legions of Hell. Those that remained at God's side were safe in Paradise, and remained His. And...those that took no side were locked out. Unable to reenter Heaven. Yet...not so corrupt to warrant Hell. They remained on Earth, their powers diminished with their distance from their Creator, but not gone.

"And they became the fairies. Here to influence man, as your whim dictates, neither angel or demon in your ultimate goals. Fickle. Perhaps encourage us to good works by little...whimsical favors, like making shoes to help a beleaguered family. Or tempt us, like the mermaid—I'm assuming they are misnamed Atlantean sprites, yes?—into a corruption as deep and inescapable as their own."

Holly laughed. "Really, Artemis. You began all this by kidnapping _me_ , and you think a fairy can corrupt _you_?"

He began to chuckle. Quite softly, so that Holly didn't at first notice it. And, when she did, little bumps began to appear on the back of her neck. The hackles of some long-distant ancestor species rising as it sensed danger. As it sensed a predator, ready to spring.

Artemis turned, reaching out one fine-boned hand. A hand supposedly evolved from the thick, sturdy digits of a primate and into the thin ones of a tool-using, highly intelligent being. He let his index finer touch her lips, tracing the upper curve, making Holly have a very different instinctive response. One that still involved a racing heart and frantically searching, dilated pupils, but also a dilation of the blood vessels in her cheeks and a weakening of her knees.

"Oh, yes, Holly," Artemis said so very quietly. "I do believe you can."


	2. Mutualism

"I've got to admit, that is a more...religious sort of explanation than I thought I'd hear from you."

It had been an hour since he thought they had stopped the conversation, but Artemis only needed a half-second to recall that Holly was speaking about the origin of fairies. He set down his brittle china teacup, cupping his hands about the saucer, as if protecting his drink. "Holly, you assume that such a story is how I see the world, and I'm afraid you do me a great injustice by assuming so."

"Oh?" Holly tilted her head, her own drink—merely water, and in one of the twins' old sippy cups, since a human-sized glass was a bit too unwieldy for her smaller body—resting on her chest as she lounged on the couch, her head hanging over one arm rest so she could look at Artemis, even if it meant he was upside down. She hoped that, with all the extra blood rushing to her brain thanks to gravity, she might be able to keep up in a conversation. "If you don't think I'm some sort of...angel...demon thingie—by the way, do you have any _idea_ how sad Nº1 was when he accidentally saw one of your televangelists on Foaly's media monitoring station, ranting about demons?"

"I believe most people should cry upon discovering televangelists. Holly, you either had a point or you decided that I should not be allowed to drink my tea at its proper temperature, and I really can not decide what I have done of late to deserve such a punishment. Continue?"

Holly snorted. She'd tried Artemis's tea once. She had no idea how he could stand the stuff. "Well, if I'm not some mytho-religo-whatever creature, like you _suggested_ I was, then what is your great theory about the origin of fairies?"

"First," Artemis said, lifting his teacup, "I never said I believed that story was true. Anyone who knows you knows that there is nothing angelic in your makeup."

As he sipped his drink, Holly could feel her face heating up again, and she thought that maybe being upside down like this wasn't such a good idea, seeing as blood going to her head wasn't going to be discreet on precisely where it stopped.

"No, I'm more scientific, as you know," Artemis said, finishing his cup and putting it down, picking up the last small cookie that had been left to go along with his mid-day repast. One half of the creamy wafer was dipped in a rich black chocolate and stamped with some elaborate seal, which probably meant that this one cookie cost more than Holly's entire food budget for a day. "While evolution does have some minor flaws, as I have said, it is, on the whole, an acceptable theory. Until I publish my paper in August, of course."

Holly raised a brow. "Artemis Fowl, overthrowing evolution? Next thing you know, you'll be proving the existence of extraterrestrials."

Artemis tilted his head, resting the chocolate coating of the cookie on his lower lip. "I was under the impression that the People had...some doings along that line."

Smiling, Holly signed "locked lips," tossing the false key into some far corner of the room, giggling when Artemis's eyes followed the theoretical flight path.

"I should have assumed as much." Taking the cookie away again, Artemis was left with a black smudge on his lower lip, which he licked away slowly, eyes half closed as he enjoyed the high-cocoa percentage and bare softening of sweetener.

Holly watched this tongue and decided she really, really wanted one of those cookies.

"Well. As I was saying. I take a more scientific look at the emergence of fairies. And humans. The phenomena is known as mutualism."

"Mutu-wah-hah?" Holly frowned. She'd been a magic major in college. She'd looked down on all the science majors and their obsession with measurable outputs and strict controls.

"Mutualism. When two species develop traits which benefit themselves and one another, progressing together through evolution and twining their survival."

"Oh, come on, Artemis," Holly scowled. "I'm no science expert, but I know that evolution is about the survival of the _species_. Not about the survival of multiple species."

"Ah, but mutualism is a recognized phenomena," Artemis said, leaning forward, scooting his chair away from the table so he could get closer to the couch and Holly, perhaps hoping that the decrease in distance could accelerate their debate. "Take flowers and bees; perhaps one of the best known examples. Flowers, like many species, seek out genetic diversity through sexual reproduction, but they are stationary. In order to get the male genetic material into the female portion of another plant, outside assistance is necessary. Thus, a variety of flying insects—and bees most especially—help to fulfill that role."

Artemis held up his left hand, cupping it, and pointed to the curve of his palm with his pinkie so he could retain a grip on the cookie. "Now, of course, a flower can not expect a bee to just wander in and do it the favor of transporting its pollen—the male genetic code— about, so the flower does a variety of things to entice the bee. Nectar, of course, being the best known. The bee squeezes in," and here he prodded at his cupped hand with the cookie, clamping his left hand about it and wiggling both about, "to obtain its food, coating itself in pollen in the process." Opening his hand, he displayed a few smudges of chocolate. "Well...in the opposite manner, obviously."

Holly was going to say something, she was sure of that, but Artemis began to lick the sweet goo off of his palm, brows furrowed in thought. His tongue was very flexible and quick, and soon his hand was entirely clean, which, oddly enough, led to the complete opposite state in Holly's mind.

"Now, since flowers offer such a bounty, bees are not only able to survive, but to thrive, developing entire social structures and increasing their chance of passing on their genetics. Similarly, flowers flourish. The two have evolved together quite well, leading to a variety of clever tricks. Did you know, flowers often exhibit colors in the ultra-violet spectrum, beyond human and fairy vision, but within the spectrum of the bee and other insects?" Again, he illustrated the idea with his left hand, opening it wide and drawing his pinkie along each finger, from the tips and into his palm. "The coloration forms a sort of landing pad, a trail, guiding the bee into the sexual organs of the flower. Quite ingenious."

"Trail," Holly repeated, eyes flickering down for just an instant to the belt of Artemis's pants. Holly was well aware of this phenomena.

"So, as you can see, mutualism is quite real and perhaps even a preferable state of affairs, in regards to species survival. By working with one another, the chance of survival increases exponentially."

"I...suppose," Holly said, licking her lips and looking up at Artemis. "Though I really don't see how you came to the conclusion that humans and fairies did it."

"Well, a variety of clues. For example, fairies are nocturnal and humans diurnal. In a society that mixes humans and fairies, there would always be someone about at the top of their game, ready to watch the camp and keep out intruders. Make medicine. Any number of chores, really. When the species live apart, there is always the need to put someone on watch when they should be sleeping or to wake up the doctor, which can lead to perhaps dire mistakes."

"Yeah, but its still not a huge inconvenience. Humans have managed without us for a long time."

"Sadly true," Artemis replied. "But there is also the difference in the size of our bodies. Humans are taller than fairies. We can reach into high branches. Grasp at things out of an elf or pixie's reach. And we are...we are _generally_ stronger," Artemis amended, making Holly smirk as he looked down at his arms, which showed no muscle definition, but at least did not betray a large layer of fat, despite his nigh-hedonistic lifestyle. "Fairies, on the other hand, are lighter, which may allow you to maneuver through more precarious environments. Harvesting plants closer to the ground would put less of a strain on your backs, allowing the two species to forage together and reach the maximum amount of food without taxing either body. And fairies were probably the inventor of complex tools, with humans supplying materials, thanks to a greater ability to move said materials. I have yet to get even halfway to the intricate engineering that Foaly is able to produce, partially by the virtue of your entire society _needing_ smaller tools than humans use."

Again, her eyes shot to Artemis's belt buckle, and she seriously considered amending her upside down position on the couch. "Well...I...suppose. But, still, that's just lucky coincidence. There's no evidence that humans and fairies had, like, villages together or anything. We just so happened to evolve differently. Not evolve together."

"Really? You do not _see_ the final piece of evidence?" Artemis locked gazes with Holly. Intensely. So deliberately that she was certain he meant their swapped eyes, despite the fact that no fairy and human had shared such a bond before.

"I...Artemis, what in the _world_ are you talking about?"

Artemis sighed. "I suppose it is easy to forget, what with Nº1 resolving the issue." He tapped a finger under his eye. The blue one, instead of the one they had traded. "Fairy 'glamor' or _mesmer_ and the Rule of Dwelling and other _geis_. Our particular brand of mutualistic magic. I do not profess to know which came first, but the abilities complement each other perfectly. A fairy can use the _mesmer_ to give orders to a human mind. To make them do whatever the fairy wishes, unless it goes completely against that human's moral code, in which case they are able to fight the orders off. Similarly, when in a human dwelling, the human can give a fairy an order. The humans' lack of control over a fairy once outside a dwelling is made up for by the fact that the fairy is _completely_ unable to refuse an order, regardless of moral code."

Holly shivered. She had forgotten about the latter idea. She'd been eager to forget it, once Nº1 had obtained the Council's approval and lifted that pressure from the People. It had made their lives far simpler since. And her life especially. Artemis Fowl retaining the ability to order her to do whatever he liked...

Holly swallowed. The flash of emotions through her body were _definitely_ not what she had expected to accompany that thought. "So you're saying...we evolved to order each other around?"

"No, no," Artemis chuckled and shook his head. "I would say...that we evolved to _trust_ one another. But...we did not do so quite well enough."

"W-well, I guess since Nº1 got rid of that, we can be free to...evolve...separately."

Artemis twisted his lips. "I am...afraid our species have been doing so for quite a lot longer than the past few years. While old Celtic myths place our species closer together, there is a definite separation in Medieval literature. Even in those rare cases where human and elf formed a...sexual relationship," he coughed discreetly into his left hand, "tales of courtly love and romantic ballads in particular make it rare for human and elf to have a child. The story tends to just _end_ before such a thing happens. It seems an odd omission. I surmise that our genetic makeup may be...too different, at this point."

"Well...I mean, it's not like a bee and a flower can have a kid, either," Holly pointed out.

"Yes." Artemis nodded slowly. "Quite right."

"Though...you have to admit, it's very one-sided. This bee-flower mutualism thing."

"One-sided?" Artemis tilted his head. "As I have explained, the flower offers the bee food in exchange for spreading genetic material. Both sides are satisfied."

"I didn't say they _weren't_ satisfied," Holly said slowly, chewing on her lower lip. "I just mean...the flower does everything it can to entice the bee, but when does the bee entice the flower?"

Artemis looked down at her, and she watched the small bump of his Adam's apple bounce up and down his throat. "I...do not believe...it needs to," he finally whispered.

"Oh?" Holly considered this. Or tried to appear like she was considering it.

"Hey...Artemis?"

"Hmmm?" Artemis sat up a bit straighter, ridding the unfocused quality from his eyes. "Yes?"

Holly's voice split in half, her normal tones joined by notes in a bass register, blending together perfectly, creating a veritable song out of simple words. She wasn't entirely certain that the order wouldn't go against his "moral code," as Artemis pointed out, but...

" _Give me your cookie_."

Eyelids drooping and a strange, relaxed smile coming across his lips, Artemis leaned over, pinching the wafer between two fingers and placing the smooth chocolate end at Holly's lips, which eagerly parted, welcoming the sweet treat. She chewed slowly, savoring the combination of bitter cocoa and the vanilla in the wafer, plus a strange sweetener she hadn't tasted before. Something the People never got to indulge in, spending all their lives underground. Holly's tongue dragged across her lips and her eyes closed in bliss at the foreign, sticky, perfect flavor of honey.

"Holly. That was the last in the box. Now what am I supposed to do?"

She opened her eyes and the corner of her mouth twitched, because, oh, he _did_ look annoyed.

Artemis seemed just a mite less angered at the loss of his snack when the elf repeated the sweep of her tongue, toes curling at the faint echo of sweetness on her lips.

Holly shrugged. "Make it mutual, I suppose."


End file.
